


Milk

by jupiterexile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breastfeeding, M/M, Male Lactation, Masturbation, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterexile/pseuds/jupiterexile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A smile tugs at Dean's lips—Sam, nursing their first child and belly swollen with their second, the lamplight casting an ethereal glow over his features.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt at spnkink-meme](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/100303.html?thread=38252495#t38252495): "Sam & Dean's daughter has just turned 1, meaning par-tayyyyyy. Poor Sam is exhausted because he got pregnant again just a few months after giving birth, so at the end of the day Dean finds him dozing in the rocking chair, their daughter nursing as Sam cradles her against his belly. Dean can't help but creep in and suckle at Sam's other breast.
> 
> Take it wherever you want, excluding sexualizing the infant. I've got no squicks otherwise."

Dean peeks into Sam's room, gaze catching on the rocker lit dimly by the desk light. Sam's relaxed in the chair, one leg tucked under the other and their daughter cradled protectively against his bare skin as she suckles gently at Sam's breast. Dean knows they're both exhausted, Sam especially since he'd been running himself ragged with last-minute preparations for Joanna's first birthday party. It'd been worth it—the event went off without a hitch, friends and family showering both daughter and expectant father with attention, laughter around the cake and tears at Sam's words dedicated to the memory of their cousin, Joanna's namesake. 

Dean steps in quietly, almost hesitantly—Sam's room is his sanctuary, and Dean almost feels like he's an invading presence—until he's close enough to reach out and touch. He brushes Sam's hair back from his face, rewarded when Sam blinks his eyes open, scanning the room before focusing on Dean.

"Hey," he says sluggishly as he glances down at their daughter, still latched and nursing quietly.

"Hey," Dean responds. "You weren't in bed."

"Yeah," Sam yawns. "Joanna was fussing. Hungry, I guess. Time's't?"

"Late. You should come sleep."

"Yeah," Sam yawns again. "I will when she's done." He looks down at Joanna again, swathed in her lavender blanket against the curve of his stomach. He adjusts his hold on her and a smile tugs at Dean's lips—Sam, nursing their first child and belly swollen with their second, the lamplight casting an ethereal glow over his features.

Dean drops to his knees next to the chair, reaching up to card one hand into Sam's hair and pushing the other over Sam's middle. His fingers brush wetness and he pauses, eyes flicking up to meet Sam's.

"It happens sometimes," Sam shrugs one shoulder. Dean slides his fingers up to roll Sam's nipple between his fingers, making Sam jump. He glares at Dean as he re-settles Joanna, encouraging her to latch again. Dean makes a split-second decision while Sam's occupied, leaning up to swipe his tongue over Sam's breast and latch on himself. 

"What the fuck, Dean," Sam hisses, managing to keep still for Joanna while shooting Dean a death glare. Dean grins up at him without breaking suction; Sam's milk thick and sweet on his tongue. He suckles deeply, the flat of his tongue steady on Sam's skin. Above him, Sam gives a small moan, barely surfacing from his throat. Dean grins again, letting go this time and pulling Sam down for a kiss. Sam makes a face when they break apart, wrinkling his nose, but his eyes are dark with lust.

"You like that, Sammy?" A bead of milk has welled in the tip of Sam's nipple and Dean laps it up with his tongue, flicking over the sensitive bud. 

"Yeah," Sam whispers. "I—I do."

Dean latches again, long pulls flowing down the back of his throat as his eyes slide closed. His hands prowl over Sam's body, one dropping under the swell of Sam's stomach to palm his cock, hard and straining against the fabric of Sam's lounge pants. Sam jerks and pushes Dean off, rasping, "Not me."

Dean moves his hand to his own cock then, the other cupping Sam's breast as he suckles enthusiastically, sloppily, milk and drool gathering at the corners of his lips. He manages to shove his pants halfway down his thighs, giving him space to jack himself—twisting at the head, steady on the downstroke, smearing precome over his shaft in tandem with the milk smearing his lips. Dean kneads Sam's supple flesh, sliding his fingers over Sam's nipple and letting it slip from his mouth. Milk beads between his fingers as he pinches and rolls, slipping down to fill the space between and trail over the back of his hand like a tiny river.

The edge of the chair digs into Dean's chest as he shuffles closer, Sam's heat radiating into his skin as he closes his lips over Sam's nipple once more. The honey-sweet taste flits across Dean's tongue and he can't stifle the moan that works its way out of his chest. His cock is slick with precome, hand flying faster as Sam cups the back of his head, holding Dean's face tight against his breast. 

Sam's fingers tighten in the short hair at the nape of his neck while he moans into Sam's skin, already feeling the tight coils of pleasure winding in his belly, up his spine. Dean suckles hard one last time as pleasure explodes at the base of his skull, rippling through his nerves like tidal waves and he shoots over the slate floor, striping the concrete under Sam's chair white.

Sam releases him and he pants, bracing his forehead against the arm of the chair while Sam hefts himself upright, cradling their daughter close to his chest. 

"I'm gonna put her to bed," Sam nods down at Joanna, "and then I'm coming back for you."


End file.
